Unfulfilled missions

The philosopher came closer and sat on the black rock. “I think I can help you” he said. Cerberus stopped crying. He raised his middle head so as to better listen to what a philosopher would say about all this. He had to find a solution quickly. It had been centuries since he decided to do something about his life and he wouldn’t wait.

He would not use eternity as an excuse anymore. It was about time he took the big step. He wanted to live in a sunnier place. He hated Haros and all that bragging about his stupid boat and those names he and his Siren friends called him all the time. Of course, Hades was the best place for you if you were a monstrous dog with three heads, huge teeth and red eyes. It was actually the only place where you could find a permanent and well paid job without having to live in a cage, being whipped all the time or jumping through flames before a cheering crowd. Being the chief guard of Hade’s Gates was nice for the first five centuries. Then, Cerberus had had it.

He was so tired of the darkness and dead people. He was fed up with their anger, their fears, regrets and oh dear gods, all those unfulfilled missions.
They were all convinced they had left behind unfinished stuff and insisted on going back, fulfill them and then die. That was definitely the worst part of his job. He spent most of his working hours trying to keep dead humans inside Hade’s Gates.

It was inconceivable for the dead those days to accept that life didn’t necessarily have to mean anything. It was impossible to make them understand that it was absolutely okay to be born, live and die without doing anything remarkable in between. Just live with no miracles or uniqueness involved, just plain good biology. It was completely beyond his comprehension why humans would believe that crap, why there had to be something more to them, an inner light, a higher purpose, a meaning.

He certainly had underestimated Hybris. She had done an excellent job. Her priests had filled those poor people’s minds with lots of flattering stuff to help them cope with their unimportant, ugly lives and make money for the temple. It worked very well for the people and the temple.

The whole conception was so simple and yet dam clever. If someone convinces you that the universe has a plan just for you, you feel unique. You feel important. It made people get up in the morning because they now knew, that life would soon reveal their purpose. They only had to have their eyes, ears and hearts open to recognize the signs and most importantly, they had to be thankful every single day for everything life had given - or not given -them.
From that moment on, it was like a virus infection. Once you heard those words, you were instantly turned to a happy moron. You saw signs and meanings and messages from the gods all over the place and if kicked in the butt you were thankful for maybe this was a sign too.

Cerberus knew from the beginning that humans were badly fooled. After all he was immortal and had to live in the dark for an eternity. What kind of higher purpose would that be? And on top of it, he had to cope with hundreds dying every day complaining about their unfulfilled missions or surely having missed the signs, all ending up shouting and trying to escape from Hade’s Gates. And as the chief Guard of the Gates, Cerberus had to protect Hades image too.

He tried logic once “just because your parents abandoned you in the jungle, it doesn’t mean that you should become the Lord of the Jungle. Oh, and apes don’t always eat bananas”. Then he tried lies and even flattery “this is the most suitable place for your own personal mission. You know… the one the universe has just for you? You must certainly be the Messiah of Hades. Just wait for the signs and you will believe me”. Nothing worked. Someone already tricked by flattery isn’t easy to trick again unless you give him something a lot bigger. If one’s mind is already near the sun, being promised the moon is of no interest at all. You have to blow one’s mind sometimes.

The philosopher lit his pipe and exhaled a large cloud of smoke and then started making smoke rings looking very thoughtful. Cerberus tried not to keep his hopes high. One of the things he learned after dealing with dead philosophers all this time, was that whenever a philosopher doesn´t feel the need to grab his last chance for philosophy right away, then it is possible that he has nothing philosophic to say and most probably never had.

- The problem is, that you don´t value your existence enough.
- And how is that?
- You see our existence is a lot more than the things we already know my dear Cerberus. There are things beyond me and you. Beyond life and existence. Just waiting to be revealed.
- Oh? And what more would there be beyond life, death, Hades and the gods?
- I’m not talking about the present necessarily.
- Okay, you are telling me that there is life after eternity?
- I’m not talking about life after eternity. It's all about your life during eternity.
- What about it?
- Our life you see, has a higher purpose. The universe has a special plan just...
- ...for me?
- Exactly.
- And I suppose I have to keep my eyes, ears and heart open to recognize the signs?
- That's the spirit. And don't forget to be thankful...
- Oh, yes. That too. And your purpose in life? Has the universe revealed it for you?
- Well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about in the first place. I need a favor. Tell me, are you acquainted with the philosophical term “unfulfilled missions”?

Inspired by: Atheist Ethicist :D


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Ethics In Dystopia

Pythia run out from the oracle screaming, cursing and casting spells to innocent people. Every time she opened her mouth something really bad would happen. Zeus would come up with a thunder, Poseidon with a Cracken or Aphrodite with a new lover. All three very painful.

It was obvious that Pythia’s religious feelings were too strong to handle any more. You only had to draw her attention away from her Gods for seconds, or just ask her a very simple question, one that even a child could easily answer, something like “what is the Aquarius zodiac sign compatibility?” or "what does Zeus think of abortions?" and she became furious. And people kept coming from all over Dystopia for her prophecies. It was her job after all. But even a mosquito could make her mad those days. Her speaking to gods was like an addiction.

The only thing she wanted to do day and night, was to talk to her Gods which would be exactly what she was expected to do, unless she didn’t leave out the part of telling people what gods wished them to do. She had to be a medium and not in the middle of god's will. Talking to gods was a common addiction* for priests.

People called the Priest Of All Gods to help her. He went near her, rose his hands and spoke:
Don't do to others what you don't want others do to you”.

In any other universe this would be a great piece of advice. Pure wisdom. It would spread like pollen and be fertile enough for generations to come. However in Dystopia, such confident speaking was not something wise on it's own. You never took it for granted. No matter who said it, no matter how well he said it, it had to be really wise. Or at least, make sense.

People protested: “That’s not fair!” They began shouting until someone said:
- Let me ask you this, you stupid old man. Let’s suppose I like spaghetti and my mother likes pizza. That means that she must always eat spaghetti, right? And… I must always eat pizza?
- No, no… I meant…
- Yeah! And I hate wearing pink but my girlfriend loves it. What kind of cruel religion would suggest I don’t buy her pink shoes for her birthdays just because I don’t like pink bought for me?
- My pig loves mud. My little son loves mud too. Oh, I don’t even want to think about it, you monster!

Pythia moved near the Priest Of All Gods. She whispered to his ear: “I can get you out of this” she said.
- Really?
- Piece of cake.
- Then do that right this instant young lady, what are you waiting for?
- If I do that, you will leave me alone afterwards, let’s say… for 3 weeks?
- Deal.
- No visits, no prophecies, no daily horoscopes or any other questions asked?
- Do it now!
- Just me and my oracle, my absolutely essential ehm… spiritual substances and my Gods? Oh… and some chocolate, maybe?
- Done.

Pythia stood up. “Calm down mortals”, she said. The crowd went silent. She used to speak so seldom and they payed her so much for her godly words, that even if she made no sense, everyone would pay attention. The connection of Pythia’s prophesies with logic would be made afterwards. Or not, but you never admitted that of course.
- This old man is no ordinary old man. He is in fact very wise and so are his words. It’s the Hydra in his brain that is responsible for all this nonsense. Spirits told me just yesterday that the Gods felt jealous of his wisdom and so they put a tiny Hydra in his head.
- Really?
- Cross my heart. So, every time Logic cuts a head, Insanity grows back three. For every word he tries to say, his brain Hydra grows three more that make no sense at all and kicks them out of his mouth.
- Ewwww!
- If you see to it, It’s not him you should blame but you. You are the ones who should find the wise words in everything he says. You are the ones to discover the golden rule hidden in what he told you today and not his poor sick old brain! People started to rethink his words. Some of them, loud.
- I found it! It must be “Don’t’ do others. Do you”
- What does that mean?
- No, no it’s the exact opposite: “Do others, not you”
- Rubbish! I got it. It’s “Do you do others?”
- I will leave you now. You can continue your group therapy to wisdom. You are doing fine. You almost got it. Take my word for it. Keep it up!

Pythia left the Priest Of All Gods enjoy some enthusiastic cheering everytime someone from the crowd made a new combination of his words. He eventually felt free to say whatever religious nonsense he wanted, with absolutely no consequences to the Church’s image, for a change. A true Zen experience. Pythia closed the oracle’s door behind her, re-opened it in a hurry, hung the “Spirits Gone Fishing” sign and closed it again.

  • It’s that kind of addiction all religious people have, after talking once to their gods. Since you do that, it seems that you can’t get enough (most times, there is serious spiritual substances involved but that’s a sacrifice you have to make for your faith and has absolutely nothing to do with how religious you realy are).


Inspired by: myLot


Heaven

Living in Dystopia and having to face plain skinned reality is not something you are born with, you don’t choose it. Snow White would definitely prefer Disneyland, Hollywood or even Bollywood but she soon found out that ending up in Dystopia is not necessarily a bad thing; at least not all the times.

Of course, it is not easy for a foreigner to completely understand what it is like to be a Dystopian. Some days it feels like it just takes the happiness from your face and hides it so far away that only if you desperately want it back, you must climb the biggest mountain in Dystopia, kill a dragon, kill his dragon wife, kill their two dragon babies, find the princess, kill the princess, eat her heart and then finally you find your happiness*.

However, some other days, Dystopia is like heaven. You suddenly get the feeling that life just stopped, that time does not exist. The streets are now quiet, the sounds of birds and children are not heard anymore and everything is silent and calm. And although such feelings last only a few minutes before a huge storm, another Great Depression or any other disaster you have to cope with at least once a week, no one doubts that it still feels like heaven; only a hotter one.

  • *in a really nice place with kind people who will take care of you for the rest of your life for free. This is the main reason why you feel too obliged and you say nothing when they bring you presents, like those new clean white shirts with the long sleeves they insist on tying to your back.


    Inspired by: It's a Depression


Run

Climate in Dystopia is well, dystopic. Deserts are hotter, winters are harsher and in extremely rare cases, when for some mysterious reasons the gods feel sympathetic towards those Dystopians who could use some rain, it seems that they soon loose interest on the matter abandoning it or completely forget to stop*.

The bad climate in Dystopia causes almost everybody to move a lot. No one is ever satisfied with their home, no one lives in a normal place with normal conditions because simply there is no such place. So they move, two or even three times a year. If you want a summer or a winter you just travel. Fall is out of the question and if you wish for a spring, you literally have to go after it, as it passes for a few days every year through all the woods and fields, just to prevent nature’s fatal heart attack after the constant weather socks.

If you are a farmer you cultivate on the go by placing your field on wooden planks and wheels and drag it untill you find sun or rain. And then you run to save your life and crop.


*whoever wizard responsible for that mysterious humane force driving gods to this huge and unexpected act of humanism such as rain, should reconsider limiting the effect of his magic filter in human time as well, or else it won’t be so humane after all. Or give to at least one Dystopian the adequate time for an ark. Oh, and a wife.


Inspired by: Nature :(


They lived happily ever after… ?

Once upon a time there was a place called Dystopia. Still is actually.
It's residents are mostly refugees. You see, every myth and tale has to end, so Dystopia is the only place in the universe where they are accepted. It's that famous place all mythical creatures can retire just after they hear the magical words “they lived happily ever after”.

Of course “happily” is a big word but if you are seven and you are already scared enough with monsters and witches, you desperately need a “happily ever after”; It is really not the moment to be acquainted with new words like “divorce”, “car accident”, “poissonous cherries” and “Cinderella's Hot line”.